The once great beast reduced to clay

The once great beast reduced to clay.
Bleached white bones on Bright summer’s day.

Tires and footprints stamped in dirt.
Bloody, red, mounds left to be burnt.

Giants crushed, paper to fire’s harsh brush.
They seem to fight back but ammo’s too much.

Sinking down in the sand, they are ships in the sea.
They are passengers attempting to flee.

Just frenzied animals running for life
Shot down they drown in the red scarlet strife.

Buzzards have gathered 'bout pedestal feet.
I stand and watch as they pick at the meat.

There come more giants attempting to mourn.
Still more sorrows yet to be born.

note: this is not a poem about human loss of life